


Every Damn Sunday

by eledhwenlin



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-13
Updated: 2007-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:24:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eledhwenlin/pseuds/eledhwenlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>This is better than the fucking Superbowl, Ray thinks. Much more entertaining. Everyone should have their own live-in Mountie. It makes up for the total lack of useful programmes on TV even. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Damn Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> When I was tagged, I was delighted. I instantly had an idea involving a 18-year-old Fraser and hookerfic. Then I had a busy day, so the better part of that idea got written starting at 11pm my time. When I made it to 2.5k, I was just getting to the first porny bit. Which is not even the real porny bit I had in mind. So I ditched that idea at midnight and started writing something else. This is a long and complicated way to explain to you that this was written in the course of a mere hour. It's midnight now and I had a long day, so I hope this is coherent. I really do. If not, 'm sorry. Very much so. Anyway. Word count's almost 1300.

It’s not a healthy obsession, Ray thinks, as he watches Fraser take care of his boots. But really, those boots shouldn’t not be half as sexy as Ray thinks they are. For one, one looks stupid while wearing them. Okay, everyone but Fraser. Second, they’re all laced up and Ray knows from first-hand experience how long it takes to put them on and to get them off again. So really, least sexiest shoes ever.

Except they’re made from _leather_. Every Sunday Fraser sits down and puts all kinds of oils and lotions on them to keep them shiny and clean and just as good as they are now. That’s good and Canadian and so very Fraser that Ray doesn’t question it.

What makes him think that Fraser knows of his little obsession with Fraser’s boots, though, is that Fraser insists on doing this in Ray’s apartment. Of course, he’s spending a lot of time there and only goes back to the Consulate to keep up pretences, but really. Fraser doesn’t wear his uniform on Sundays he’s spending at Ray’s. He’s wearing either nothing at all or Ray’s old faded and stretched sweat pants, the pair in the wrong size he bought many years ago and never got around to throwing away. It was just for the better of him because Fraser in those sweats is forbiddenly hot. No one should look that hot, when they’re wearing a pair of faded blue sweat pants.

So no of these looks include the boots. Which doesn’t explain why Fraser has them with him every weekend and why he is currently sitting at Ray’s kitchen table, all his lotions and oils and whatsit spread out on the kitchen tables, his boots in front of him standing on a newspaper page. And all of that just in Ray’s line of vision. He is pretending to watch this game of hockey, but he keeps being distracted by the event playing out now in the kitchen.

First, Fraser takes the Neat’s Foot Oil and carefully works into the leather. Repeat on the second boot. Then there’s this lotion that smells funny, but makes the leather really smooth and stuff. Sorry for the ineloquence, but Ray’s not up to his best right now. That done, Fraser takes a small rag that’s freakishly clean - Ray does _not_ have such clean rags, that’s for sure - and starts polishing the first boot.

By the time he has finished the heel and toe-cap, Ray has giving up on pretending to watch the game. Right now he doesn’t even know who the fuck is playing. The rag moves slowly up the leg of the boot and down again. Up. Down. The boot is set down and it’s the other’s boot turn now.

This is better than the fucking Superbowl, Ray thinks. Much more entertaining. Everyone should have their own live-in Mountie. It makes up for the total lack of useful programmes on TV even.

First the toe-cap, then the heel. Ray is mesmerised. He thinks that maybe he’s being a bit obvious, but if _he_ is, then so’s Fraser. That Mountie is truly evil. The leg again. Up. Down. Ray adjusts himself in his pants and keeps watching. He almost moans when the boot is set down next to the first one. Then he looks up and meets Fraser’s eyes. He can see in Fraser’s eyes that he knows _exactly_ what he’s doing and that he’s doing it all for Ray.

Ray watches Fraser put on the boots slowly and carefully. Swallowing hard, he wonders whether he should get up. Move this into the bedroom. But Fraser’s done now and coming toward him. The boots are reflecting the light and they’re the only thing Ray can look at. They’re coming closer until they’re right next to Ray. Then one boot comes up onto the armrest. Ray stares at it for a moment before he looks at Fraser again.

From here he can see how dark Fraser’s eyes are and he just has to grin. He’s not the only one getting off on the boots.

That gets him a lapful of horny Mountie, not that Ray’s about to complain. He’s busy kissing Fraser and getting his hands on skin. Thank heavens he’d been able to persuade Fraser that wearing t-shirts inside was completely optional. It makes the getting naked part of sex easier.

Fraser’s fumbling with Ray’s pants and how hot is it that Ray can make Fraser so horny that all the effective Mountie-shit goes straight out of the window and Fraser’s just as desperate to get skin on skin as Ray is? Good for Fraser, Ray’s not one to refuse Fraser anything and so he gladly helps with his belt and the buttons. Between the two of them they manage to push Ray’s pants down to his ankles and now there’s only the sweats to deal with.

When Fraser sits down on Ray’s lap again, he brings his legs parallel to Ray’s, which means that the boots are touching Ray’s skin. This time he does moan and it gets him all the benefits. Fraser kisses him roughly, all tongue, while he brings their cocks together and closes his hand around them.

This is kind of the point when Ray decides to just hang on for the ride. He grabs Fraser and holds him close, making it easier for him to jerk them both. Fraser does so with gusto, not holding back for once.

Ray’s right hand slides down to touch the boot. It feels a little bit forbidden to touch the boot while Fraser’s pumping them, but it’s just there and it feels good and it really turns Ray’s crank that Fraser doesn’t only know how much Ray likes the boots, but that he actually puts them on for Ray’s (and his own) pleasure.

Ray can feel Fraser’s body heat starting to come through the leather, but for now it’s still cool to his touch. Cool and smooth. He lays his hand around Fraser’s ankle and holds on to it.

Fraser stops kissing him and starts panting heavily. Ray can tell he’s close now because he’s frowning like he’s thinking really, really hard. The first time they had sex it made Ray think there was something wrong with Fraser, but it turned out that he was just going to come his fucking brains out.

Fraser repeats Ray’s name again and again and again, and Ray answers with gestures. His left hand, the one not occupied with petting boots, closes around Fraser’s hands, urging him to move faster, pump them harder. He feels his own orgasm approaching, the tingle down his spine and then he strokes the boot for the last time. He comes and comes and comes and their hands are still moving and he only partly notices Fraser coming, too.

They sit there for a few moments, just like that, sweat and come-stained and Ray can’t help but think that he could die like this. Would be better for his parents, if he didn’t, but right now he isn’t that concerned about that. He says the three words, the ones he only ever said to Stella and thought he’d never say to anyone else again. Fraser’s left hand finds his right and squeezes tight. He knows it for the answer that it is and smiles.

After a few more moments they slide down sideways and Fraser squirms around until they’re spooning and Ray’s got a lot of content, satisfied Mountie in his arms.

“So we gonna do this again next week?”

“Well, Ray, those boots require a lot of care.”

“Thought so.”


End file.
